


Locks

by Dominatrix



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, a bit fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:02:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dominatrix/pseuds/Dominatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan wakes up in the middle of the night and finds an exhausted and highly distracted Sherlock in the living room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Locks

Joan Watson came down the stairs stumbling and yawning. She scratched her head helplessly when she recognized Sherlock, sitting in a chair and fumbling around with something in his hands. She hadn’t been wrong when she woke up in the middle of the night and imagined to hear some strange noises. She had hoped that it would be something like a burglar. She lowered her hand which held a baseball bat. Just to be sure. A burglar would have been a lot easier to handle than a sleepless Sherlock Holmes.   


„How long has it been since you’ve been sitting there unlocking these…things?“ she asked while she was approaching him.  


“These things, as you call, my dear Watson, are locks. Some rather unspectacular, some are, however, on a very high level of security. Now you obviously ask yourself why I should do that in the middle of the night. Here’s the answer: It helps me think and keeps my attention high.”  


“No need for sleep, though?”  
“No time for sleeping and no desire for it, either.”  
“What is it? Bad dreams? Some kind of withdrawal syndrome?” Yes, maybe she was a little too sarcastic, and maybe she should show more sympathy, but it was about four a.m. for God’s sake!  
“I can’t let my head rest, Watson. I am thinking too much when I’m sleeping, so I’m trying to avoid it.”  
“You know you can’t just don’t sleep. This is not how a body works.” He sighed, his fingers still nervously picking on a very heavy-looking lock.  
“The same system as with the brain. I’ve told you before. This is not everyone’s body. This is my body, and it works quite differently.”  
“You have some highly distracting dark shadows below your eyes. It would be much easier for me to believe you if they weren’t staring at me.” Sherlock wanted to say something, but Joan cut him short.  
“Don’t pretend you’re not tired. You are. I can nearly smell it.” The movements of his hands got more and more impatient the longer they were talking, and no matter how hard he pushed his instruments in the lock, he couldn’t manage to get it open. Joan wanted to calm him down somehow, but before she could even think about what she could say the lock was flying across the whole room, before it crashed against a wall with an ugly sound.  
“Sherlock!” she called out surprised. “What the hell are you doing?”  
“Why doesn’t it work? It has always worked! The logical consequence would be that it works now. But it doesn’t. There’s a mistake…”  
He kept talking to himself like this, rummaging in some kind of tool box, blinking towards the still locked challenge on the other side of the room, as if he was trying to find out desperately why he could not open this lock.

“Sherlock, you need to sleep.”  
“I need to open that lock. That’s all I need to do.”  
“Sherlock…”  
“No, no. It’s wrong. It has to be right. Why can’t it just be right?” His voice had grown louder and louder, until he put down the tool box with a loud crash.  
The floor seemed to shatter, and some of the delicate instruments fell out and landed on the floor with soft jingles.  
“Sherlock, just stop it or I will throw these locks on the street.”  
“Don’t you dare to take these away from me.” He looked at her, completely bewildered, when she stopped her pace right before him and stretched her hands out towards him.  
“Come with me, genius. I’m gonna get you into bed.”  
“I’m able to go into bed all by myself.”  
“Yes, I can see that. How long have you been awake?”  
“What day is it today?”  
“It’s Wednesday.”  
“Then…About 60 hours.”  
“What? Sherlock!” She took all the patience she could find in her mind – it was not much – and breathed slowly before talking again.  
“You need sleep so your brain can have some rest. You can unlock these locks later. But first you’ll sleep. And you have to shave, you look terrible.”  
She stroked his cheek with the palm of her hand, and he groaned quietly.  
“See? You’re far too tired to restrain. You definitely need some sleep.” She pulled him up when he took her hands in his and supported him on the way in his bed room.  
“Why do you have a baseball bat in your hand, Watson?” he asked mumbling.  
“I thought I would have to beat your head in if you wouldn’t leave by yourself.”  
“I see.” He nodded, a smirk shone on his face.  
“Alright now. Just lie down and take some hours of sleep. You need it.”  
“I need a case.”  
“You know the police. They’re lost without you. They need you. But you can be of any use only if you’re awake. Heard that?”  
“Yes, ma’am” he replied yawning while stretching out on his bed.

“God, I wish I could join you. It looks so amazingly comfortable” she said without thinking.  
“There’s enough room for two. I won’t push you off the corner."  
“Are you serious?”  
“I’m not the one who started the topic, remember?” he asked.  
“God, this is so not my job” she murmured while putting her baseball bat on the floor and crawling in Sherlock’s bed.  
It was comfortable, although the man on her side distracted her heavily. The mattress was soft, the sheets were cool, and Sherlock's breath was slow and steady, as if he had alrealy fallen asleep.  
“Good night, Sherlock.”  
She reached out her hand to pat his head, but he caught it in the air and squeezed it gently before intertwining his fingers with hers.  
“Good night, Watson.”


End file.
